Title: Enchantment
Summary: And still they sat and stared.
Characters: John and Teyla
Pairing: John-Atlantis, John-Teyla
Rating: K
There were few things John Sheppard was ever truly enchanted by. When he'd been younger, it had been Ferris Wheels; when he'd been a teenager it had been things that moved more than two hundred miles per hour; when he was in his twenties it had been his ex-wife Nancy. Now, in his thirties it was the city of Atlantis.
Sitting on a deck chair on the south pier, he faced the structure that had awed him from the second he'd seen it from above in one of the Ancient Puddle Jumpers so very long ago now. The sea swirled and swayed behind him, the waves still turbulent from the fading storm that had almost taken the city back to the deep recesses of the ocean in tiny pieces.
But the city had weathered the storm and John could not remember ever having been so proud of something in his life. He'd been even more enamoured by the city than he already had been and he'd thought that was impossible.
The tips of the tallest spires and citadels sparkled as they towered up into the sky, vying for the attention of the last rays of light. In the centre, the control room hummed with life but out here the thrum of everyday life could not reach him and he was glad. The position of commander had never really appealed to him but it had been thrust upon him and he had taken it, grudgingly.
In a way, he was jealous of the scientists holed up in their labs because as much as he enjoyed trekking off world and meeting a whole hoard of alien civilisations, he envied that they got to stay in the city, to study it's wonder, to discover it's power and wealth.
But, he acknowledged as he sipped idly on his cool beer, then he wouldn't experience the rush of 'coming home' that swam over him when he stepped back into the gate room. The quiet murmurs of City trickled across his mind, the gentle lull of being home and safe and knowing that for a while, no one was trying to kill him.
He sighed and shifted in his chair, leaning back slightly and closed his eyes. On the blank canvas of his eyelids, the city reappeared. Beautifully elegant, ominous in her power. He felt a rush of warmth come over him and he shuddered at the sudden change.
He could feel her approach before he saw her and he took great delights in calling to her while he was still not visible to her. It never ceased to kindle her interest when he did it and he would never tire of it, never tell her that the city told him of her approach.
"One day I will succeed in surprising you," she said quietly as she rounded the corner, the smile twinkling in her eyes.
"And one day I'll let you think you have."
He smiled fondly up at her, noting how her hair fell to her shoulders rather than her chest and he lamented the loss of the tumbling, curling locks. But who was he to say? She unfolded a chair and placed it delicately beside his, folding into it with ease and John sighed in content.
The city wasn't necessarily the only thing that enchanted him about Atlantis and as he cast a furtive glance to see the city reflected in her dark eyes, he knew why. Many of the expedition had grown accustomed to her, to her beauty and strength and few took the time to gaze in wonder at the powerful elegance. But not Teyla. Like him, she still found beauty in the spires, in the lights dancing across the evening sky.
A warm wind blew across them, rustling her hair and John brushed it away when a few strands licked his face. The wind carried with it the gentle sway of the sea, the swishing calming his soul. When he licked his lips, the salt carried to his tongue but the bitter taste could not alter his mood.
Atlantis swelled for a moment in John's mind before settling with a sigh that escaped John's lips and he watched the lights flicker before him.
Beside him, Teyla sighed in contentment and John didn't say anything.
Together they sat and stared at the city until the white dawn broke across the horizon and splintered the darkness of night, scorching away the stars.
Still, they sat and stared.
Enchanted.